


Unsupervised Pets

by AnnieVH



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dogs, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hannibal AU, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash, implied animal cruelty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Will rescues dogs and Hannibal watches helplessly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsupervised Pets

**Author's Note:**

> A gif for swq [http://swq.dreamwidth.org/] for the Hannibal Exchange 2013.
> 
> Warnings: implied animal violence, implied murder, minor cursing
> 
> This story has been translated to Vietnamese by mabeo2610 and it can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5769721

"I got myself a dog."   
  
Dr. Lecter nods slowly. They had been hitting around personal life the whole evening,  but that had been the  closest he could get  to anything remotely personal. H e'd take it.  Better than nothing . "That's interesting news."   
  
"Yes."   
  
"I didn't know you were looking for one."   
  
"I wasn't, she... found me." When Dr. Lecter does not ask, Will explains, "She's a stray. A very pretty one. I actually thought she was there for food, but she only wanted to play."   
  
"Maybe she just felt lonely?"   
  
"She lacks the melancholia." Will taps the armchair, expecting his therapist  t o dig into how he knows so much about the feelings of solitude, but he doesn't. So  Will just proceeds , "She's a very beautiful, very vibrant border collie. I thought of trying to find her a family, but she seems to have decided to stay with me for a while."   
  
"And how does that make you feel?"   
  
Will's face twitches into an almost smile at the cliche. Dr. Lecter shrugs to apologize for the lazy psychiatry but doesn't withdraw the question.   
  
"I feel that her presence is very comforting."   
  
Dr. Lecter  nods again, as if that resolved the story. Will still looks troubled, though.   
  
"What is it, Will?"   
  
Will shrugs. "Very clean, well fed, unharmed. She had no reason to seek me."   
  
"Maybe she just thought you needed company."   
  
"Maybe it was an act of pity."   
  
"Taking her in?"   
  
"Seeking me out."   
  
"Well," Hannibal discreetly eyes his watch to see if he would have time to  work on that particular comment, but  he wouldn't . "Who knows? It may be a good change."   
  
At the door, he asks, "Have you named her yet?"   
  
"Alana."   
  
"Your little rock."   
  
Will looks at him as if the meaning of the name did not factor into his choice. "I just think it is a pretty name."   
  
"Very beautiful indeed."   
  
\---   
  
When Will tells him of Jack, there is a funny feeling on the back of Hannibal's mind, like maybe he's on to something not particularly healthy because it's only been a month since he took Alana in.   
  
He tells him that   
  
"Yes, well, it wasn't my idea."   
  
"You seem frustrated."   
  
"The whole thing was frustrating."   
  
If Will knew friendship would have the heavy burden of favors attached to it, he wouldn't have accepted Agent Winston's invitation to that fishing trip, two months before.   
  
Dr. Lecter nods at that remark and states, "Friendships can be complicated." Trying to stir the conversation away from his new acquisition, but Will doesn't bite. He's mad and he wants to rant.   
  
Mostly because he doesn't feel like complaining about Agent Winston tonight. All in all, he's a good agent, never asks Will for anything he is not comfortable with, and always orders him to step away if he sees him breaking a sweat. And he is great company on a boat in the middle of nowhere, never asking questions, never intruding  Will's thoughts with chit-chat.   
  
Besides, he's the one who suggested (very gently) that maybe it would be good for him to go see a psychiatrist regarding his “people skills”. Or lack thereof.   
  
Agent Winston also has a landlord who won't let him have a dog, no matter how heroic and quiet said dog can be. So he turned to the next best thing: the single guy with mental problems who cannot keep a relationship/friendship and has a house in the middle of nowhere.   
  
"A sniffer dog is very well trained, won't give you any trouble," Winston had said.   
  
Will argued, "I thought you said he's crippled."   
  
"It's just a small limp. Truth is he's getting old and they think it's easier to put him to sleep a few years earlier because he got shot doing his job. I think that's sick."   
  
"Shot doing his job," Will almost laughed.   
  
"His job was to sniff into suspicious bags," Winston replied, a bit aggressively. "And he did find a human arm, before the suspect took out a gun and went berserk."   
  
"Yes, good boy Jack."   
  
But, for all his mockery, Will gave in and allowed Winston to take him to the pound, just to take a look  at him , no  strings attached.   
  
Jack was exactly what one would expect from a police dog. A big, strong looking German shepherd with a stoic posture. If he knew he was in trouble (and dogs always know), he was not showing it, sitting on the other  end of his leash with his head held high, as if he was in charge of the situation and not that skinny young man who had only recently earned his uniform.   
  
The young cop and Agent Winston  insist that  Jack would be  a great pet. W hen that didn't seem to impress Will enough (after all, Jack doesn't hold a candle to Alana), they say what a great guardian dog he'll be to Will's isolated and usually empty home.   
  
They made him walk and the limp was bad, worse than Winston had suggested before. It shook Jack's confidence a little, but he performed the little task of going from one side of the yard to the other without dropping his head. He refused to give in, if people wanted to give him the sharp end of a needle, he wouldn't be asking anybody  for pity.   
  
Will wondered what kind of dog puts pride above surviving. With that kind of attitude he wouldn't be melting any hearts into giving him a cozy home.   
  
"So," Winston pressed, carefully, "what do you think?"   
  
"You really do care about saving it, don't you?"   
  
Jack made a sound to protest the  _ it _ , but didn't move.   
  
Will rolled his eyes. "Fine!"   
  
The young policeman was the most excited. "Great! Bella will be so pleased!"   
  
"Who's Bella?"   
  
Winston made a guilty face. "Ah, yes, uhn, there is a little... catch."   
  
At that point, Dr. Lecter frowns and interrupts Will's narration. "There was another dog?"   
  
Will sighs, "Apparently, Jack was mated for life with this big... huge black Belgian shepherd and I  _ simply  _ could not leave her behind."   
  
"So you got tricked into taking two dogs home."   
  
"Yes." Will nod s , twisting his lips.   
  
He ' s angry. H e' s feeling betrayed.   
  
Now that was something Hannibal could work with.   
  
The rest of the session actually flows nicely.   
  
\---   
  
"I've rescued another one."   
  
It is a confession, but a proud one.   
  
Hannibal does the math. It's the fourth in less than two months.   
  
For all the work they are, Alana, Jack and Bella do make life a little easier. Specially Alana. He doesn't want to pick a favorite child, but he cannot help it. She's always the first to greet him at the door and to rush to his side when he has a nightmare. Lately, simply reaching down and touching her fur in the middle of the night is enough to calm him down and grant him a much more peaceful night.   
  
Then, there is Bella. He had been reluctant to bring her home, but cannot imagine life without Bella now. Or better, he cannot imagine dealing with an opinionated dog like Jack without Bella to sometimes take his side. Unlike Alana, Jack does not follow around waiting to be noticed or ready to provide comfort whenever Will needs it; Jack barks and scratches the door until he's outside. He won't settle down until he's had an extra plate of food. He'll wake Will up in the middle of the night because he heard a suspicious squirrel outside.   
  
Most times, Will indulges him. It is easier to do as Jack wants than to wait for him to back down. But sometimes, specially if he wants to stay in bed instead of pursuing squirrels, he can count on Bella's mercy to pull her companion away, as if saying, "Dearest, stop abusing the Master, he's very tired and does not want to play right now."   
  
He tells Dr. Lecter that, but makes it clear that he is not complaining. Jack is a good dog who follows the rules of the house and doesn't take pity on him. Unlike most human beings (and maybe even Alana and Bella), Jack finds him worthy of respect and doesn't underestimate  him or think he's broken.   
  
"So, at that point, you thought," Hannibal says, carefully, "if I can manage three, I could easily handle four."   
  
Will bites back a smile. "I guess I did."   
  
"Was she Agent Winston's idea as well?"   
  
"No, she's some cosmic joke the universe decided to play on me. I mean, I already got three big dogs that are actually quite easy to deal with. I just  _ had _ to have a small dog that makes as much trouble as a pack of wolves."   
  
Freddie is a small mix of scent hounds with a good nose she likes to follow anywhere she wants. She walked into his front yard with h er head low, like he was a criminal and she was following his lead.   
  
Freddie is sneaky. She knows  when  she's up to no good and is fully aware the things she does are not allowed. At least once or twice a day, he says, "Freddie! No! Bad dog! Get out of there!"   
  
Freddie does as she is told. Walks away from whatever it is that is forbidden and stays away. For a while. And then she tries Will's boundaries once again.   
  
After hearing one time too many his Master struggle to keep the troublemaker in her due place, Jack takes the case into his own paws. He may be stubborn, but he knows who the Master is under that roof and he does like to have order. If she climbs on the couch, he'll bark and shove her down himself; if she tries to steal Alana's food, he'll growl and keep her away; if she goes anywhere she is not supposed to, he herds her back into the house like a little lost sheep and makes sure she's not going anywhere.    
  
Good old Jack. He's opinionated, but more reliable than most people Will knows.   
  
Still, Hannibal observes, "They all seem to be a lot of work."   
  
"They are," Will says, but he doesn't look nearly as distressed as Dr. Lecter expected him to. Something must show on his face because Will shrugs. "It feels good to be needed."   
  
\---   
  
Winston knows Will is going to make the stupid decision before Will even asks to keep the dogs.   
  
"Don't do it."   
  
Will opens his eyes. They look wet and on the verge of insanity. For a moment, he isn't sure what Winston is talking about.   
  
_ Don't do it, Will.  
  
Don't murder her, Will.  
  
Don't feed her to your dogs, Will. _   
  
He's coming down from his own mind and the thoughts gets scrambled in the process.   
  
Agent Winston apologizes. "I shouldn't mess with your method Will. I'm sorry."   
  
At the mention of his name, Will blinks and seems to come back to himself.   
  
"What did you say?"   
  
"I said you cannot take the dogs."   
  
"I know. The dogs are evidence."   
  
Winston frowns. Then understands. "Oh, shit!"   
  
"I think you'll find the remains of Cassie Boyle between their teeth."   
  
The agent walks up and down the dirty room, counting the dogs. There are seven of them. Very noisy. Not friendly noisy. These are fight dogs, big fangs and a lot of anger.   
  
"Murder weapon or a way to dispose of the remains?" He really doesn't want to know the answer.   
  
"He murdered them upstairs, then dragged the bodies down here."   
  
"Don't you have to starve a dog to get it to fight?"   
  
Will shakes his head. "You overestimate my knowledge of dogs."   
  
"You do have four."   
  
"Six."   
  
Winston raises his eyebrows.   
  
"I got Zee and Jimmy last week." Then he pauses. "Don't tell Dr. Lecter when he gets here."   
  
"I won't if you don't take any of these home with you. If you do, I'm calling an intervention."   
  
A particularly drooly pit bull launches itself against the cage, as if to prove his point.   
  
Will nods, "Point taken."   
  
Winston shudders. "I'll leave you to your thing.  I'll call Animal Control."   
  
Will sighs and backs away from the cages the best he can. Seeing many incarcerated, mutilated dogs is giving him an unpleasant feeling, a mixture of pity and fear that those cages may not be enough to contain their rage and he'll end up being today's dessert. So he positions himself close to the open door, eyes still taking in the sorrow of the room. Legs ready to make an escape.   
  
Then he notices the dog at his left is sitting very quiet.   
  
When Dr. Lecter arrives, ready to provide his invaluable consultation, he already has the tip of his fingers through the cage, being licked by a gray Staffordshire terrier that looks very unbruised and clean compared to the others.   
  
"Don't tell me."   
  
Will looks back to find Dr. Lecter at the door, knowing very well what is going on.   
  
"Another one, Will?"   
  
Will just smiles, apologetically. "His name is Abel."   
  
"They have names plates?"   
  
"... No."   
  
Next session, they'll have a serious talk.   
  
\---   
  
After he rescues Abel and Winston informs his psychiatrist of Jimmy and Zee, Will promises Dr. Lecter he won't take in any more dogs for a while. He knows the Doctor's right, that the surrogate family he's collecting off streets and pounds (and, more recently, torture chambers) is a poor substitute for human contact. And he was in therapy because he wanted to fix that.   
  
But still, he hesitates before making such promise, because the full house makes him feel like a perfectly capable human being, able to care for and interact with others. Besides, the noise and madness of seven dogs makes his home a lot less gloomy than it used to be.   
  
"I think I'm finally learning to separate my job and my private life. I mean, I don't see how that's bad," Will said, after agreeing to stop collecting strays.   
  
Hannibal gives him a perfectly logical reasoning on why dogs can't replace people – because saying "you have a beautiful mind and you should embrace it" at this moment may not have the better outcome.   
  
He sends Will home to try to rehabilitate Abel.   
  
For now, Will's decided the best place for Abel is inside a cage whenever unsupervised, a much bigger cage than the one he had before, with more food and chew toys, but he has plans to fix the extra bedroom to give him some space to roam whenever he's away. Abel doesn't seem particularly unhappy or enraged about the situation, so he was probably very new to the dog fight business, but one can never be too careful. Abel could very well chew little Jimmy for breakfast if he wanted to before Jack could try to do something about it.   
  
Like Freddie, Beverly does not ask permission before coming in, just sneaks inside and curls herself on top of the shelves to watch Will work on the propeller of his motorboat. He doesn't even realize she's there until she lets out a little meow. She's beautiful, with a long tail and curious eyes that seem to follow him around everywhere, and is smart enough to keep a safe distance from the other residents.   
  
The very first times, Will gives her left overs.   
  
A two weeks later, Will gives her a name.   
  
Beverly doesn't exactly live there, rather popping in from time to time whenever she thinks the dogs are not looking. That's the nature of cats, Will thinks.   
  
The day after Beverly gets her name, Dr. Lecter gives him a calculating look. Will thinks he wants to talk about delicate subjects ("Do you hate your mother, Mr. Graham?"), but then he just smirks. "You got yourself another dog."   
  
Will hesitates, but tells the truth. "No."   
  
His therapist ignores him and says, distressed, like he is losing a battle to Will's possible hoarding, "You just rescued one last month."   
  
"It's not a dog."   
  
"A troubled one."   
  
"Abel is not troubled. He's in rehabilitation. And I did not rescue another dog."   
  
"Unless is a goldfish, I still consider it part of your pattern."   
  
"I got myself a cat." They both stop to think about it. Will concludes, "I have no idea how that happened."   
  
Dr. Lecter laughs so hard is verges on the unprofessional. Is either that or kill his patient.   
  
Will just hides behind a hand, reevaluating some recent life choices, until his psychiatrist decides what  t he  best  solution  is . "Maybe you should consider interacting with more human beings."   
  
"I interact with human beings."   
  
"At work."   
  
"And you."   
  
"Twice a week. To talk about work."   
  
"And about my dogs."   
  
Dr. Lecter doesn't budge.   
  
"If you mean a girlfriend, I think I just ruined my chances. Who dates a guy with a unique cocktail of mental psychosis and seven dogs?"   
  
Dr. Lecter can't help but nod. "And a cat."   
  
And i t' s Will's turn to laugh of his own misfortune.   
  
\---   
  
Dr. Lecter is there when the new pet arrives. Or better, imposes himself into Will's life.   
  
He's decided to make a house call. Maybe he'll find Will living in the dirt, like a lonely cat lady, and then he'll get something to use against him in therapy. But the house is spotless, the yard is relatively clean and the dogs are actually more or less behaved. Freddie leaves paw prints on his suit, but hides as soon as Will says, “Bad Freddie! Bad Freddie!”. Even Abel seems to be the calmest dog in the room, wrapped in a comfortable muzzle and looking satisfied.   
  
Will opens the door and they all  go outside to play while the grown ups talk about why they are making Will's life difficult. Or better, while Hannibal tries to convince Will of this.   
  
He is half-way through a lengthy explanation on why Will shouldn't be this dependent on his pets whilst avoiding humanity  altogether when he realizes Will's eyes have fluttered a few inches to the left.   
  
"Will, we are talking about your mental health, you could at least pretend to pay attention."   
  
His eyes drop to Hannibal's with a faint hint of panic. "I swear I did not rescue that one."   
  
"What?"   
  
Will points. Hannibal turns.   
  
There is a messy brown cat with bright yellow eyes resting on top of Abel's empty cage.   
  
He turns to Will with a severe look.   
  
"How did that cat get in?"   
  
"My guess would be through the window."   
  
"Have you been feeding him?"   
  
"No!"   
  
"Will?"   
  
"No!"   
  
"Have you ever seen him around?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Have you named him already?"   
  
Will did not answer.   
  
"In five minutes? It took you five minutes to get attached to a stray cat?"   
  
Will blushes intensely and promises, "I will find a better home for Chilton. I swear."   
  
Hannibal just knows how the next session is going to start, and he is right, because on Thursday Will comes in flustered and embarrassed, saying, "I know what you are going to say, but Chilton  _ just won't leave _ , no matter what I do. He is not my fault."   
  
As it turns out, denying food and leaving the cat outside did not stop him from stealing left overs from Alana's plate and screaming his lungs out until Will came to let him in. With that charming personality, finding a new family for him would be hard.   
  
Maybe he'll just move out one day. Hell, Will isn't even sure how he actually moved  _ in _ . And he truly wishes he hadn't. That cat gives him the creeps, always strutting around the house like he owns the place, never around when Will calls  his name, but ready to come inside once Will is finished with locking all doors and setting up the alarm. And he's always observing, like a scientist observes a specimen and takes notes of its curious behavior.   
  
The kind of cat that could be plotting the destruction of the world.   
  
Besides, he is not as smart as Beverly.  Chilton likes to taunt the dogs. In fact, his favorite place on earth to lie down is on top of Abel's cage, preferably with Abel in it.   
  
"Pick the most unstable dog in the house and sit on top of him to show who's the boss," Will says, too agitated to sit down.   
  
Hannibal ponders on it. "A cat with a narcissistic personality."   
  
"I just know Abel's going to find a way to open that cage one day or another, and then Chilton will be in serious trouble."   
  
Will noticed the look.   
  
"What?"   
  
Hannibal said, carefully, "Have you noticed how you don't even like that cat, and yet you made him your responsibility?"   
  
"Your point being?" Will said, defensive.   
  
"With Freddie was the same thing, if I recall."   
  
"What did you want me to do? Call the pound?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
Will is taken aback by the bluntness of that answer.   
  
Hannibal tries a more delicate approach. "What I mean is that you should maybe start thinking about letting go of your responsibilities. You do not own them everything."   
  
Will did not try to sound nice when he said, "That's cold. Even for you."   
  
The rest of the session  i s spent in awkward silence.   
  
\---   
  
It isn't until he's rescued Nick and Melissa, two very red Cockapoos, that Hannibal realizes talking about it and getting long lectures on “why he's doing this/how to stop doing this/why he should stop doing this” is not doing much for Will. Yes, he knows he has a problem. No, he couldn't care less.   
  
Hannibal does not know if he should chalk him up to a success (Will Graham is finally happy) or failure (Will Graham is finally happy because he's got a house full of dogs and is pretty much withdrawing from humanity).   
  
He doesn't want to be  _ that _ therapist but he's giving serious thought about calling Animal Control, or the local Health Department. Or  _ Hoarders _ .   
  
He could suggest Will tried a  _ special _ therapist that could treat his problem specifically. Though that would be admitting defeat.   
  
Defeated by a bunch of drooling dogs, Hannibal thought to himself. Not something he'd like to have on his  _ curriculum vitae _ .   
  
He remembers the last time he drove to Wolf Trap, a new speech at hand. One with various references to Will's Important Job Saving Lives, that was always a crowd-pleaser. If pressed, he could bring out Mother. Yes, it was a cheap trick, but he was desperate.   
  
He was greeted by the loud hammering and barks. In the back, Will was building a fence, probably to keep the pets inside since the house was too little now. All the dogs were watching, curious about what Master was doing, acting so silly.   
  
At one point, Freddie took his hammer and just ran for it.   
  
The recovery of the tool was a mission on its own, where Jack followed, Will tried to keep up screaming, "Freddie, no! Bad girl! That is heavy and can hurt  you !" Somehow, the three ended up fighting over the hammer in a muddy pool. And all the other dogs thought it was just big fun play time with Daddy and jumped in.   
  
It was messy and noisy. Will would go back into the house covered in drool and dirt. The dogs would very likely get there first and ruin the place. Then, he'd spend the rest of his weekend cleaning up, bathing the dogs and trying to keep everyone clean.   
  
It’s chaos. Dr. Lecter just cannot see the appeal. In fact, he walked back to the car as fast as he could, before one of the bigger ones picked up his scent and decided to go greet him. The suit was expensive.   
  
And yet, Will looked extremely happy. Chaos he could control and occupy his mind with made him happy.   
  
Hannibal sighs and rubs his eyes. There is one thing he's been  considering lately, but he really didn't think they'd get to that point.   
  
But then again, as they say, if you cannot beat them...   
  
\---   
  
The next time he visits, is like nothing changed from last time. Will is trapped amongst the bigger dogs while the little ones run around making a lot of noise. The cats are nowhere in sight. But they had a few days without rain and the weather is dry, so there is a lot less mud to concern himself with.   
  
It is not so early in the morning, but Will is still in his underwear, suggesting playtime started when he first got out of bed and just didn't stop.   
  
Hannibal waves and, from where he's standing, Will seems to realize how silly he looks, in his underwear, being tossed around by his pets, being observed by his therapist. His well dressed and very well aware of Will's childish behavior therapist.   
  
Will pushes Jack aside to wave back, but Freddie pushes him down and Zee starts pulling his shirt, poking holes and pinching his skin with his overbite. Alana is the only one who walks up to the Doctor for a proper greeting. Dr. Lecter pats her on the head and calls her a good girl.   
  
"I'll be with you shortly," Will says, though his pets seem to have other plans.   
  
"No, please, don't let me interrupt," he answers, with a hint of friendly mockery. "I just came to introduce you to my new friend."   
  
That's when Will sees what he's bringing in his arms and makes an extra effort to leave the bottom of the pile he got himself into. Then he walks up to Hannibal, walking a little faster as he gets closer.   
  
When he actually sees her, his eyes melt.   
  
"Oh my, she's adorable."   
  
"I know."   
  
"Is she a Golden Retriever?"   
  
"She is," Hannibal says, very pleased with Will's reaction. "Her name is Abbie."   
  
"Hello, Abbie," he says, and reaches for the puppy's tiny head for a scratch. She bites and he doesn't mind.   
  
Hannibal tries to sound helpless when he says, "Abbie, no, don't bite." He looks at Will. "I have no idea what you're supposed to do. How do you get her to stop biting? Do I hit her with a roll of paper?"   
  
"No, no, no, she's too precious." And then he takes Abbie from his arms, as Hannibal predicted he would. Will is not used to being around dogs that are not his. "I thought you hated dogs."   
  
"I don't hate dogs."   
  
Will looks skeptical.   
  
"I don't particularly  _ like _ pets in general. But a former patient of mine gave her to me."   
  
"And saying no would be  _ rude _ ."   
  
Hannibal gives him a tiny smile. "Yes, but... she is cute."   
  
"She is, she is very cute."   
  
Abbie is squirming in his arms, biting and scratching, but Will doesn't seem to mind. In fact, Hannibal is pretty sure she could do whatever she wanted to him and Will wouldn't care at all.   
  
Will looks at him for a second, before returning attention to the tiny puppy. "So, if you didn't come here to drop her with me, what is this?"   
  
_ Reintroduction to human interactions 101. _   
  
"I thought you could help me with little Miss Abbie." He tries to look sheepish. "As it turns out, dogs are not my specialty."   
  
"Well, we cannot have this cutie in the hands of a layman. Jack, stop! She's just a little puppy."   
  
Jack, who had been sniffing around and making disapproving sounds for a few minutes now, seems to understand he was outranked on the subject of "do we like Abbie or not". He huffs to make it clear what he thinks of it and turns around to join Bella  o n the porch.   
  
"I'm sure I have a chew toy she can have," Will says. "That may help with the biting."   
  
"Better a chew toy than my shoes."   
  
Will laughs. "Naughty Miss Abbie." And motions him to come inside.   
  
New dogs are very common in the house by now, so Will's pack of hounds sniffs the air and decides they do not care much before going back to running and tumbling  with each other. Only Alana follows inside. Jack eyes them, but does not move. Freddie separates herself from the rest of the group, but Dr. Lecter closes the door before she can get in.   
  
Alana is a good dog. He likes her. He can share with her.   
  
Freddie is only good for making messes.   
  
Will completely ignores Chilton on top of Abel's cage and reaches the top shelf to bring back a rubber figure (a little blue mailman) still wrapped in plastic.   
  
"There you go, sweetheart," he says, handing her the toy and watching her bite from his lap.   
  
Alana gets closer and earns a pat from Dr. Lecter.   
  
He says, "I'll make us some coffee."   
  
Will makes some agreeable sound, still a bit mesmerized by the puppy and not really paying attention. When his mug arrives he thanks the doctor but does not drink.   
  
"Know any pet shops in Baltimore?" Hannibal asks. "I think I'll be needing them."   
  
"I know pretty much every pet shop in the state."   
  
Hannibal shakes his head. "Yes, I have no idea why I asked that."   
  
"If you want, I can go with you. Teach you the tricks of the trade."   
  
"I really don't want to pull you away from your pets just for the sake of mine. It is your weekend off, after all."   
  
Will finally takes his mug for a long sip of coffee. Before, though, he says, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, "Don't be silly. It is best to do these things with company."   
  
In the silence that follows, Hannibal smiles.   
  
Who would have thought a cute puppy would be so effective in rehabilitation?   
  
**-END-**   
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> swq's prompts:
> 
> Character(s) and/or pairing(s) you'd like included in your gift: Hannibal, Will, Beverly, Hannigram  
> Things you like: H/C!!! I love that! Rape recovery, fluff, secrecy, sensuality, 5 + 1, humor  
> Things you don't like: A/B/O, scat, water sports, age play, mtf/ftm, gender bending, cross dressing, explicit sexytiems  
> Preferred rating: Whatever the fic/art requires!  
> Any scenarios, prompts, or special requests for your fic/art:  
> \- Will has been physically/sexually abused, and when he encounters the abuse-dealer during a case, someone makes it their mission to help Will.  
> \- Will falling asleep on some other character, preferably one of the women, who finds it utterly adorable  
> \- Will being generally adorable


End file.
